


Pretty Patchwork Doll

by hiza-chan (callunavulgari)



Series: Dark Month Collection [12]
Category: Final Fantasy VII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dark Month, Gore, M/M, Multi, Multiple Personalities, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:02:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/hiza-chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxas as a serial killer. Roxas kind of crazy. Roxas in love. Sew me up~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Patchwork Doll

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anroisin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anroisin/gifts).



> Dark Month 2010, Day 15, akitotsubaki -- Roxas/Axel, Serial Killer!Roxas. I was originally going to go with something more along the lines of Hard Candy but I made myself uncomfortable writing Axel into that role. And then I had a really weird dream along these lines, so I went with this.

.  
  
The first is a whim.  
  
It is Sora's twenty-first birthday, and Kairi has dragged both him and Riku out to pretty much the only bar on the islands, laughing and giggling as Riku and Sora make downing shots a competition. Sora's had just enough that his vision has gone fuzzy around the edges, technicolor with a crackle and a pop that makes the blues in the room brighten into sapphires, the pinks and purples and yellows too vivid.  
  
The room shifts and sways, to and fro, and it reminds Roxas of being on a ship.  
  
Sora is laughing into his fist, struggling to dump back another shot when Roxas sees him.  
  
The man isn't spectacularly tall, maybe a head or so above Sora but not the _right_ kind of tall. He's blonde, pale eyelashes too long, skin just a bit too dark, eyes a shade of muddy brown and _nothing_ is right except for the curve of his wrist pressed against his beer, vaguely damp from the perspiring bottle, the breadth of his forearms, up up up until just before his shoulders, and that is where the similarity ends.  
  
There's little that's perfect about the man- he's attractive in a puppyish sort of way, ears maybe a bit too large and eyes a bit too small. But all of that is fine because the curve of his arms, the pillow of the inside of his elbow, the blue vein peeking out from beyond his sleeve; all of it makes the world narrow around him, hiss with static, and he's sliding up and out of Sora's mind with the smallest of pushes- settling into Sora's body like he's slipping into a suit, tailored to perfection.  
  
Sora is perhaps a bit more inebriated than Roxas had thought, because the world comes at him in a rush, unfocused and too real, makes him stagger against Riku. When Riku laughs, he says "All right, Sora?" and Roxas just laughs a bit too- thinks, _maybe this will be a bit more complicated_.  
  
He says that he's going to the bathroom, staggers away and has to occasionally catch himself on the back of a chair, or someone's shoulder.  
  
Sora's feet stumble over themselves when he finally reaches the man. Up close, he looks even younger- maybe closer to Sora's age than he'd previously thought. He doesn't really notice Roxas at first, bent over his beer in one long relaxed line, chatting idly with the short, green-eyed bartender. Roxas pushes Sora's body up against him, tucks the lithe, tanned body up close, whispers something filthy in the man's ear.  
  
The blush travels all the way down, past the hem of his neckline, and Roxas laughs a bit, breathes tequila stained breath into the man's ear. Asks, "Wanna go back to my place?"  
  
The boy pulls back to look at him, and Roxas grins a bit- flashes the guy Sora's best smile, dimples and crinkled, happy eyes. Of course the guy tries to grin back, stumbles and trips over his own tongue in a hurry to say yes. Roxas hadn't expected any different.  
  
.  
  
Sora's apartment is messy, littered with trinkets from other worlds. A set of shells on the countertop he'd gotten from Atlantica, a wooden duck with bloody bullet holes and a black eye he'd gotten from the Mayor as thanks is tucked just out of sight, beneath the end table on the far side of his lumpy, uncomfortable couch. A photograph on the mantle gives him pause, familiar, and for just a second he totters on unsteady feet and stares at himself, at blue eyes and blonde hair and skin that would feel so much more comfortable.  
  
Sora stirs a bit inside, consciousness just brushing up against the parietal lobe, exhausted and still drunk; the weird, psychobabble equivalent of turning over in his sleep. It makes Roxas feel... strange. There's a word, trembling in the back of his mind to explain this feeling and he flounders for a moment, _what is it_ , and yes, guilt.  
  
He's never felt guilty before.  
  
But then again, he's never felt much of anything.  
  
He lets the man tumble him down atop Sora's old batman sheets, listening to the low rasp of the guy's laugh when he teases him good-naturedly about them. Laughs with him, even though the sound sticks to the roof of his mouth like oatmeal. Listens to the guy lean in and whisper, "don't you want to know my name?" as he skims big hands across the width of Sora's hips, grasps them- licks kisses up Sora's neck until it really _does_ start to feel good.  
  
There's a part of him that's tempted to say _no, I don't want to know_ , but that isn't part of the script, so Roxas clings and gasps, arches up and breathes a shaky yes. His name is Jim, James, _you can call me Jimmy if you like,_ whispered shyly into the curve of his ear. The guilt flares back up, and Roxas fights it back down, lets Jim fumble his way into the bathroom while he wriggles out of the rest of Sora's clothes, watches the man come stumbling back, tripping over Roxas' skateboard that Sora had insisted they bring back with them. He lands laughing on the bed, a jar of Vaseline tucked into the palm of his hand and his boxers slipping down around his thighs.  
  
From there it's easy to let him push and press, to lose himself in the motion of it all, to close his eyes and press his fingers to that wrist and think _Axel_.  
  
When he's done, Roxas listens to his breathing even out, makes sure that he's settled into slumber before he goes to the kitchen to get a knife.  
  
The boy is sleeping, curled on his side, smile stretched wide across his slumbering face and Roxas thinks, _he's probably someone's older brother_ , a good man, careful and sweet and-  
  
Roxas doesn't care.  
  
The man doesn't wake up.  
  
.  
  
There's a refrigerator now, in Sora's basement, one that no one ever sees because then they'd wonder why locks were on it. They'd ask what was on the other side of those locks.  
  
And then they'd have to be on the other side too.  
  
.  
  
Roxas plays dress up for weeks, clinging to the inside of Sora's skin like static, even once Sora has woken up. At first, Sora isn't concerned. He says that maybe it's a good idea to do this once and a while, let Roxas get out and have fun. He laughs and provides input when Roxas is invited to Blitzball sessions, a quiet voice in the back of his own head when Roxas is sliding into sleep.  
  
And then he starts wondering why Roxas keeps answering to Sora's name, why he hasn't told anyone that it's him, why he's _acting_ , and the unease slides in like poison.  
  
.  
  
Roxas meets a man. The curves and ridges of cartridge are all the same, a fanged earring dangling from each, but it's still perfect.  
  
He takes him home and Sora wakes up to screaming.  
  
Starts screaming too.  
  
A whisper, a breath, and Sora falls back into sleep.  
  
_Sleep tight._  
  
Blood splatters, bones crunch, sinew tears, and really, a death isn't necessary but when Roxas slides blood-slick fingers into the empty cavity where the heart used to be, he feels... satisfaction. He wants to laugh, has blood streaking his face and maybe tears leaving tracks in the blood, but it's funny because,  
  
_Now you don't have a heart either._  
  
.  
  
Roxas catches himself eying Riku's eyes with a yearning kind of feeling in the pit of his gut. Starts thinking about plucking them out, sliding them into a jar- remembers that blindfold of his and thinks, _he probably won't miss them, right?_ Sora, still drowsy with sleep overhears, wails and wails and wails, makes him promise, _not Riku, no no no no no you can't-_  
  
Roxas closes his eyes and tells himself that they aren't quite the right shade anyway.  
  
Sora sobs and trembles, asks him, _leave, please leave._  
  
Roxas leaves.  
  
.  
  
He cuts Sora's hair, dyes it a familiar flaxen, and smiles, because it almost feels like home.  
  
.  
  
Feet, nose, hips, _heart_ \--  
  
.  
  
Reno is the perfect framework. Roxas meets him in Port Royal, and has a moment where the breath is knocked from his lungs with a sledge hammer because he thinks for _sure_ that it's Axel sitting there, downing a bottle of rum like a pro. And then the man turns and the smile's just a bit too wrong, the eyes a bit too blue, nose a bit too wide.  
  
Still, they look enough alike that Roxas just _stares_ for minutes before he decides to approach.  
  
He talks like him too. Same accent, same pitch, leaning all the right ways and just the right syllables. Skin just as pale, body nearly matched for height and even if the mouth is just _a bit off_ they have the same smirk, the same way of glancing him up and down and-  
  
Something molten and liquid hot trembles low in his belly.  
  
He's already hard when he slides close to the man's side, mouth dry, and much less eloquent than he usually is- stumbling over propositions and clearing his throat nervously when the man eyes him with amusement.  
  
It's irritating, because this isn't like him. He's acting like he did _before_ , when Axel had carded big hands through his hair- when Axel had laughed and handed him some ice-cream- when Axel had thumped him on the back and grinned, _Hey Roxas, bet you don't know why the sun sets red_.  
  
He's acting like this man, with his red hair and too familiar smirk _is_ Axel and well, that just won't do.  
  
Roxas lets Sora's heart go cold, pays no mind to the broken whimper- the prisoner in the back of his head, and licks an unsteady line up a perfect neck. The man shivers and grins, throws some cash onto the counter, and tugs Roxas away. Shouts over his shoulder, _Just gimme a bit, Rude. We can talk later._  
  
They don't even make it to the back alley and because he is selfish, Roxas lets himself pretend.  
  
Lets himself be shoved back against the wall, locks his legs around the man's waist- is patient and waits for the man to grumble and shove two saliva slick fingers inside of him until Reno runs out of patience and just shoves inside.  
  
He's both gentle and brutal, breathing endearments and dirty words into Roxas' ear even as he fucks into him too fast, too hard, too dry.  
  
When Reno comes, his eyes close and his head tips back. In the moonlight, with all that red hair and pale skin, the resemblance is so uncanny that Roxas almost can't do it. Instead, he shuts his eyes and shoves a knife through Reno's throat.  
  
His eyes open, green eyes wide- dropping Roxas to scramble at the knife in his throat with bloodied fingers. He paws for a minute, trying to gasp around the steel, blood bubbling and spurting- He looks so betrayed; annoyed and scared and helpless, and he looks like _Axel_ so Roxas goes to him. Cradles and rocks him as he bleeds out, until there is just him and a corpse and a dirty alley.  
  
The bar is loud with screams and drunken whoops. When someone stumbles out the back door and sees them, they just make their apologies and stumbles back in.  
  
Things are always so much easier with pirates.  
  
.  
  
Reno's partner catches up with him three worlds later. Roxas is almost caught off guard when the man slams him back against the Gummi ship, asking too calmly, _what have you done with Reno?_  
  
Roxas laughs, says it's fine. That Reno's in a safe place.  
  
The man isn't stupid. He is intelligent and dangerous enough that Roxas is perversely glad he'd gotten Reno in a moment of weakness, because otherwise he would have given him hell.  
  
He shows Rude the refrigerator in the basement with it's pretty little locks. Shows Rude what's left of Reno and gives him a choice: stay or go? Rude snarls and launches at him. Selection A it is, then.  
  
Rude is strong, bigger than Roxas and trained well enough that the anger hasn't made him sloppy. But Roxas is Sora and Sora is Roxas and they have both gone up against stronger opponents.  
  
- _Crack_ -  
  
.  
  
A man who smiles at him and asks if he's lost. Why he's in these parts, doesn't he know that this isn't a place for a kid? The man's wearing a uniform. Military, Roxas thinks. The church he's leaning against is the only untarnished thing in the slums, pretty. Through the stained windows, Roxas can almost see flowers.  
  
"Want me to help you back to the Upper Plate?" the guy asks.  
  
Roxas grins and nods.  
  
He repays the man's kindness with a bullet, just one- through the forehead.  
  
.  
  
He uses the keyblade to kill just once, with unfavorable results. So he apologizes to it, and never lets the blood touch it.  
  
.  
  
Sewing all the pieces together is difficult, and has much more to do with carefully controlled magic than it does thread and needles.  
  
.  
  
Sora is mostly quiet these days, but when he sees the finished product he perks up- eyes the red spikes, the tattoos, the eyelashes with mounting horror. His doll is perfect.  
  
_How are you going to make it Axel, though?_ Sora asks.  
  
Roxas smiles fondly, brushes Sora's knuckles over perfect, chiseled cheekbones.  
  
"I just have to remember."  
  
.  
  
"I never forgot, you know."  
  
Green eyes blink open, surprised. A finger twitches.  
  
"You had it memorized." Axel's voice is little more than a croak, unused to these vocal cords. He shifts on the table, managing to move a hand this time- pressing fingers to a tattooed cheek.  
  
"You sound like you're surprised. It worked for Maleficent."  
  
Axel snorts. "Maleficent still had her heart, Roxas."  
  
A smile, still smeared with blood. In his head, Sora is blessedly quiet.  
  
"And now you have one too."


End file.
